Blame
by HauntedSilver
Summary: Stiles somehow always found himself taking the fall for things especially whenever Scott was involved . But now Lydia's in the hospital, and he can't help feeling like he's the one to blame. One-shot. Post Code Breaker, pre Omega.


**A/N: There are too many DerekxStiles fanfictions on here. I scrolled through, like, the first four pages and there was only one Stilydia. Which is, **_**obviously**_**, the best couple on this show ;). joking, that's only my modest opinion ;)**

(Why am I always obsessed with the main character's best friend's relationship?)

-~€•£¥—-•

I can't look as Scott peels away the bandage. Not just because I'm scared of blood; because it's Lydia. Secretive, deceptive, smart, beautiful, amazing Lydia.

"It's not healing like it's supposed to be."

It feels like there's a stone lodged in my throat. I can't swallow. Lydia just lays there, still looking like a goddess even though she's comatose or something. It was hard to listen as the doctors explained. Her strawberry blonde hair is flayed about the pillow like a halo. It's even harder to believe that just a few hours ago I was begging her to dance with me. I got Lydia to dance with me. I held her hand.

It's hard to be happy when she's laying there so brokenly.

Scott stares at me. "She's not a werewolf."

My gaze catches on her pale lips. A few hours ago they were painted with lip gloss that probably tasted like strawberries. Maybe cherries.

"Females change twice a month." I don't know if I could live with that. Two full moons of watching my best friend turn into a monster and try to kill me. I can't watch Lydia do that too.

For a minute I'm almost relieved she's not one of them. "Then what the hell is she?"

"I don't know." Scott says. Then he leaves, to go find Allison. Lydia doesn't do anything.

"Lydia?" I say, pulling up a seat beside her and taking her hand —which I'm probably not supposed to do, but I don't care. "Can you...can you hear me?"

She doesn't say anything. Lydia doesn't even open her eyes.

There's nothing that I can say, really. I already told her that I've had feelings for her since third grade and that I probably know her better than anyone else does. I could go on about how beautiful she is and how much I love her, but that won't make her wake up.

"I'm sorry." I say instead. Involuntarily, I run a hand through my hair. "This, this is all my fault. It's my fault you're stuck here in this hospital. It's my fault...it's my fault that you got bitten." I look back up at her. Lydia probably can't even tell that I'm here right now. "If the alpha wasn't looking for me, he wouldn't have attacked you. And now...now you might turn into one of them. And it's all my fault, Lydia, and I'm sorry."

The weirdest thing is the machines aren't making any noise. On TV they always have this steady beeping sound for people on life support. Its absence either means TV writers have no idea what they're writing about, or Lydia doesn't need life support. Which would mean she's not in a coma and can breathe for herself.

"Lydia?"

No response. It's so quiet in her room that it makes we want to kick something. I almost miss the squeaky door.

I'm not sure how long I sit there. But I guess I dosed off because Scott's mom is shaking me.

"Stiles. You can't be in here right now."

"Sorry." I mumble. Sorry, sorry, sorry, Lydia. This is my fault. "I'm going."

Scott's mom looks at me sympathetically. "You're allowed to stay in the lobby as long as you like. Just...be out of here in five minutes."

"Okay. Thank you." She leaves and I look back at Lydia. I'm still holding on to her hand.

Suddenly, she stirs.

"Stiles?" Her eyes are a little unfocused. Have they been pumping medication into her? Probably pain medicine.

"Yes! Yes...Lydia?" I can't help the stupid grin. Lydia shrugs off my hand and sits up, examining the room and coming to her conclusions pretty quickly.

"I was attacked by that guy...wasn't I?" She looks back at me, with those green eyes I've dreamed of a three hundred times.

"Yeah,"

"You were telling me to run. You were trying to warn me. To...protect me." Lydia leans closer to me on the last sentence. I can't help remembering after she and Jackson were attacked, when she was on those pills, and she had her hands all over me and she almost kissed me.

"Yes." My voice is almost a whisper. I clear my throat. "Um, yeah."

Lydia nods, glancing at her room again. She turns back to me like she's going to say something else, something important, when Scott's mom comes back.

"Stiles, it's time to...Lydia. You're awake." Scott's mom pauses. "I'm going to call your parents, I'll-I'll be right back." She shoots me a look. "Stiles, lobby."

"Yes ma'am!" I jump up from my seat. Lydia flops back on her bed.

-—-•-—-

She disappears. That has to be my fault too. Whatever made her run screaming from her shower must be a direct result of her turning, which is directly my fault. It has to be. I'm the one to blame.

I'm always the one to blame.


End file.
